


Hearts and Lace

by tmariea (OccasionalArtist)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Bad Ideas, M/M, Nudity, Valentine's Day, probably boarderline crack, which turn out to be great ideas actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9710990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalArtist/pseuds/tmariea
Summary: Mikleo forgot to get Sorey something for Valentine's Day.  Luckily, Rose and Zaveid have a perfect idea.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, this was a ride. I slammed out nearly 2k words in two hours for this thing.
> 
> Inspired in part by a lovely Valentine's Day pic by tumblr user retrsh, and my cousin - who continues to be a terrible (and wonderful) influence.

“So.”

Mikleo looked up from where he was reading a book in the common room of the inn where they had stopped for some rest.  Rose had situated herself in a chair across from him, and her face was nothing if not intent.  “What are you planning to do for Sorey for Valentine’s Day?”

“Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, human holiday, mostly for lovers.  Usually, it’s a time to profess your love by giving flowers, or chocolate, or… other things.”  She waggled her eyebrows at this, which Mikleo elected to ignore.

“I know what the holiday is.  I just didn’t know it was coming up.  The seraphim in Elysia didn’t celebrate, and before this year, I didn’t have much of a reason to either.”

“Not just soon, Mikky my boy,” said Zaveid, who had waltzed into the conversation without a care, and leaned himself on the back of Rose’s chair.  “Today.”

“Do you really not have anything?”

Mikleo sighed and brought his hand to his face.  “I told you, I wasn’t keeping track of some human holiday.  I hardly think Sorey will even notice, as wrapped up as he is with everything else going on.”  He said that, but he couldn’t be totally sure.  On the one hand, Sorey had a talent for being scatterbrained about certain things.  On the other hand, he was the world’s worst sappy romantic.  He would go crazy for something like this.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you all sorted,” Zaveid drawled.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”  Any idea Zaveid proposed was bound to be disastrous.

“Are you sure you don’t even want to hear the idea?  It was partially mine, too.”

That was more comforting.  Rose could be boisterous, but usually she wasn’t too out of control.  Unlike a certain wind seraph who made it his life’s goal to spy on women’s saunas.   “I will listen.  That’s all.”

“Great!”  Rose bounced up out of her chair and grabbed Mikleo’s hand, dragging him up as well.  The book he was reading toppled from the arm to the seat and sat there looking forlorn, his spot undoubtedly lost.  “I’ve got a Sparrowfeathers caravan coming in to town now with just the thing.”

Even if he had wanted to escape, it would not have been an option; Rose had him gripped too tightly for that as she dragged him down the street.  Zaveid trailed behind the two of them in his typical leisurely, sauntering way.  It didn’t take long to reach the market square, where the three of them found themselves at the Sparrowfeather’s cart parked off to the side.  Rose waved at the driver, and then led them around the back where other crew members worked at unloading boxes and satchels.

“Hey Felice,” Rose called to the girl, who was overseeing the process with an inventory sheet in hand.  “Do you know if that lace came in with this shipment?”

She consulted her list, and then pointed to a box which was still stacked on the left in the cart.  “Mind me asking what you plan to use it for, Boss?” She asked, as Rose rummaged in the box in question.

Rose emerged a moment later with a triumphant ‘Aha!’ and a large spool of undyed lace ribbon in hand.  She turned back to Felice with a smile, waving her prize in the air.  “Just helping a friend with a Valentine’s Day present.”

Felice covered her mouth with a hand as she giggled.  “It must be for someone very special, then.”

“Oh yeah, our dearest Shepherd is going to love it.”

“I didn’t know the Shepherd had someone special.”

“You don’t know the half of it.  Count yourself lucky,” Rose said, while Zaveid roared with laughter behind them.  It was good that humans couldn’t hear or see them; he would certainly be cause for alarm.  She saluted Felice and thanked her for her hard work before turning back toward the inn.

“Can you please refrain from spreading our personal business all over the country?” Mikleo asked with a sigh.

“Sure,” Rose replied at a whiplash pace.  “As soon as you stop making your personal business audible to everyone in the party.”

He turned red and sputtered a bit, and Zaveid was laughing again.  He raised a hand to his forehead.  He was beginning to regret taking Rose up on her offer.  If the flavor of the afternoon was anything to go by, this present was going to be ridiculous, embarrassing, or both.  “What, dare I ask, am I supposed to do with that ribbon?” he asked, not bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice.

Rose passed over the spool of ribbon, which Mikleo took with the air of someone handling an object which was likely to explode.  “You’re Sorey’s present,” she informed him.  “So once we get back to the inn, go to the room, and wrap yourself up.”

Honestly, that didn’t sound as awful as it could have been.  He regarded the ribbon for a moment and contemplated how that would even work.  “Why would I give myself to him?  I already have.  And what am I supposed to do?  Stick a bow on my head?”

“No, you wear it, in strategic places.”  Rose accompanied this statement with another eyebrow waggle.

He revised the image in his head, and decided it looked just as strange.  He didn’t quite see what was so appealing about tossing some strands of ribbon over himself.  “I’m sure that’s just going to look strange with my clothes.”

“Oh boy,” Zaveid said, “And I thought Sheps was the choir-boy pure one.”

“Mikleo.  You’re not going to be wearing any clothes,” Rose informed him, and suddenly a lot about this conversation started to click. 

Mikleo’s cheeks were starting to get hot, and he thanked the Lords that very few people could see him in his distress.  “Alright, thanks.  I’ve listened, now I’ve decided that I’m still going to pass.”

“Oh come on, it could be fun,” Zavied suggested with his characteristic leer.

“Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

“I don’t know, I could got get him some chocolate from the market or something.”

“And how do you propose you’ll do that?  I’m not going to be your middle man on this one.  I already gave you a good idea, so it’s not my fault if you don’t take me up on it.”  Rose dropped her hands on her hips, posture reinforcing the note in her tone of voice that said this was final.

Mikleo groaned.  Maybe he should just skip the whole holiday after all.  But the likelihood that Sorey would show up with a bouquet of flowers or some fancy dessert was far too good to risk it.  “Fine.  But if you try to peek – that counts for the wind too, Zaveid – or let any of the others within a _league_ of the inn, I swear I will douse you in water in your sleep every night.”

“Damn, Mikleo, I’m just glad you’re one of the good guys,” Rose said, but she held up her hands in concession.  “I will get everyone to clear out for the whole afternoon.  And as an added bonus, we’ll even find our dear Shepherd and send him your way quickly.”

They parted ways on the street before the inn, Rose and Zaveid to go on a Sorey hunt, and Mikleo to prepare.  He wondered if he would ever stop blushing, or if he was just resigned to be red in the face for the next week or more.  And yet, he trudged his way up the stairs and to their room, the edges of the spool of ribbon digging into his hand as he gripped it.

Once in the room, he stripped quickly so as to not delay the inevitable, and folded them onto the chair in the corner.  Then he sat on the bed and inspected the ribbon.  It wasn’t even as wide as his finger was long, and being lace, it was riddled with holes.  This wasn’t going to cover a single thing.  A quick glance down at his own chest told Mikleo that his blush had worked its way down to there, and didn’t seem like it was going anywhere soon.

Next came deep breath, and a hearty dose of determination.  This was for Sorey, a way to show his love and appreciation, albeit in a rather physical way.  Well, presents need a bow, he thought, going back to his original idea.  But maybe his head wasn’t the best place.  Instead he brought the loose end around his neck and tied a large bow there, before beginning to unwind the spool about his torso.  Ridiculous, all of it.  How did he let himself get talked into something like this?

And yet, his fingers were warm against the chill of the room and the lace soft and silky as he wrapped himself up.  Sorey wouldn’t have any idea he was here, waiting for him like this.  What would his face look like?  What would he say?  How would he touch him afterward?  Maybe this wasn’t as bad of an idea as he had originally thought. 

Mikleo bit his lip against the groan that threatened as he let the lace gently drape across his groin, still not doing a single thing to adequately cover his anatomy, and then pooled it over his legs.  He set aside the now-empty spool and settled back to wait.  How long would it take for Rose and Zaveid to find Sorey?  Amidst the fantasies swirling about his brain, it didn’t seem long at all before he heard the key in the lock.

“Hey Mikleo,” Sorey said casually, as he opened the door, “Rose said you wanted to see me about… something.”  His voice died in his throat as he made it into the room and took in the sight before him.  The bouquet of flowers clutched in his right hand drooped to his side, as his mouth and eyes fell wide.

Mikleo licked his lips against the dryness in his mouth, and did not miss the way Sorey’s breath caught as he did.  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, hoping that the cockiness he tried to put into his voice actually made it.

Sorey swallowed.  “Lords,” he said, his voice unstable, and then swallowed again.  The flush on his cheeks was rapidly spreading across to his ears and down past the collar of his Shepherd’s cloak.

“I’m your present this year,” Mikleo said, letting his fingers trail across the soft length of ribbon over his thighs.  “What do you think?”

Sorey set aside the bouquet of flowers on the desk in the room, with an air of someone who barely realized what he was doing.  He made his way toward the bed, stopping just close enough to touch.  “Does this mean I get to unwrap you?” He asked, voice dropping low as one hand reached out to brush along the bow.

Mikleo swallowed, feeling the tips of Sorey’s fingers just barely graze his skin as his throat moved.  Oh, maybe this had been a good idea after all.  “Well, what else are you supposed to do with a present?”

**Author's Note:**

> And then they do the do. Probably twice.


End file.
